Wrapped in a State of Imaginary Grace
by isawrightless
Summary: it's been an hour since they decided to rest for a bit before taking the road back home.


_set directly after the events of Dirge of Cerberus.  
_

* * *

The room they stay in is small, cramped, the wooden walls stained and old, the creaking floorboards screaming out the need for renovations. The scent of chamomile and lemongrass clings to the air, intoxicating and sweet, coming from the incense burning on top of the chiffonier located next to a window with its blinds closed. It's been exactly one hour since they got here, tired but victorious once more; an hour since Tifa sat down on the bed and called Shera to check upon the kids, an hour since endless text messages from Yuffie complaining about Vincent and how much of a jerk the man is for letting them know he's fine and then disappearing somewhere were received, an hour since they decided to rest for a bit before taking the road back home.

An hour, just a simple hour since Cloud commented on their room and feared it could crumble down on them.

They put said room to test when they stumble out of the bathroom, both naked and dripping wet from the shower they took together. They're laughing and kissing, he's holding her by the waist as they come to a stop and she ends up turning around, hands on the wall. She feels him behind her, his mouth on the nape of her neck, hot breath tickling her skin and his right hand going down, touching her, making her moan his name all rushed and pretty as he rubs her clit that way she likes, provoking her. She presses back against him, delights herself with the small grunt that escapes his mouth but it's a little difficult to keep her thoughts on check when he leaves small kisses all over her back, shoulders, so handsome and busy touching her, getting her ready as her breathing turns heavy.

She throws her head back to enjoy it better, he takes it as an oppotunity to steal a big, hard kiss, adrenaline refusing to leave, hearts beating way too fast, and all he knows is that she's like sunny days on winter and she warms him up just right, somehow steals the focus of all the harm and noise, makes him forget about that white cold around him, melts his bones and lets him sink into the comfort he so greatly craves. It's only when their kiss ends that he notices the red on her face, that innocent blush blending in with rough sweetness, her soft lips a contrast to his pale, cracked ones; her long, wet hair clinging to her shoulder, the water trickling down her skin, his left hand on one of her breasts and he wants her so much he's not that far away from pleading.

Grabing her arms, he spins her around, makes her look at him, brown eyes locked on blue, both his palms on each side of her face in a pleasant, needy caress. She doesn't shy away, no, reaches down to grab hold of him, return the favor: his cock in her hands and she strokes him slowly, he closes his eyes, drops his head and sighs and then comes back up, kisses her again, hands falling down to her side then sliding further and grabbing her ass, giving it a squeeze.

"Stop being so mean," she gasps.

He chuckles, ignores her comment for a second so he can focus on her neck, light kisses distributed all over as he bites and sucks on her skin, leaving red marks and love bites.

"I'm being mean?" he smiles when she nods. "Why?"

"You're teasing me."

"Tifa, look what you're doing to me," and he pulls her to him, her breasts pressed against his chest as he takes a moment to gather some courage and confide in her yet another secret. "You get me this hard and I'm the one being mean?"

His voice makes her tremble, that confession echoing through her system and sending a chill down her spine. She loves that there's a hint of boyish embarrassment and fear hidden in his tone, a certain type of concern that makes him wonder if there's a line to be crossed here. It's what makes it special even though this is far from being their first time.

Knowing he's waiting for her to be honest as well, she fights her own reservations and feels her face heat up.

"Then what do you want me to do?" she asks, standing on tiptoe and daring him with that gleam in her eyes.

A mischievous little grin takes the place of perfect answers because it's not easy for him to describe what he wants and how he wants it, to tell her that she burns him up from inside out and he loves her for it, loves her for everything else too, loves her so much that her name is always on the tip of his tongue, night and day, thinking about her, whising for her as if she's made of daydream and cotton instead of flesh and blood.

His eyes scan her up and down, he brings his hand close to her mouth and then runs his thumb across her bottom lip only to let his hand slide, his fingers tracing the scar on her chest with utmost care as if all he wants is to soothe that bad memory away from her mind.

"We're not gonna make it to the bed, are we?"

Shaking his head no, he leans in, forehead touching hers. "I want you here."

Cloud bends his knees a little, grabs her just below her ass and hoists her. She holds on to him, lips parted and she's gorgeous and he can't wait any longer so he reaches down once she's wrapped her legs around him, holds his cock and guides himself into her, just the tip first, just something to make her gasp while he holds her steady, hips moving slowly, tentatively, his face close to hers, his name leaving her mouth in a breath as he takes his time, all that teasing from before crashing down on them.

He's in control, she knows, but the way he goes about it is always so gentle that she doesn't think he understands how amazing he is, how caring and thoughtful, and if she had the nerve to ask him what's on his mind when they're together like this she'd know that all he can think of is how they're made for each oter, how perfectly they fit together, how meant to be it all seems. No other body would ever feel as good as hers on his.

When she moans a little louder he moves a little faster, goes deep into her, all the way in and she closes her eyes, he's so lost, so far gone in her, he doesn't ever want to come back.

"Harder," she pleads, looking at him and he obeys, of course, and she squeezes around him, makes him grunt, makes his grip on her tigthen as he loses control for a second, pumps in and out of her fast until she's close to screaming. All the pretty things are there, standing out: the freckle on the right side of her body, the scar above his left eye, glistening, healed and pink. She tries to move with him and he does this thing, he does this thing that drives her insane where he slows down and almost slips out of her only to come back in a moment later, and he repeats the motion while she has to bite the inside of her cheek so she won't wake the people in the room next to theirs.

He can't deny how proud and full of himself he gets and it's only because he's the one making her like this, making her squirm in his arms, taking in his strength and trusting him to not let her fall. A soft please leaves her mouth and so he goes faster, she's so wet and tight, so unbelievably mesmerizing. She does scream this time, forgets about everything else and screams, hangs onto him. There's nothing sloppy or lazy about his movements, his touch, it's all careful and deliberate, it's all for her, for them, she needs to come first, always, she needs to beg him to follow her.

Suddenly he stops, both of them panting, trying to regain some of their composure. He looks at her, brushes some of her hair out of her face and she's all red and sweaty and lovely and he can't help but smile. He kisses her as soon as they can breathe and starts moving again, his thrusts set on a rhythm now while she melts in his mouth like honey.

"Am I still mean?" he asks, increasing the pace again.

She nods, grinning. "So mean," but he doesn't stop, doesn't even faulter. "So mean and so good," she admits, inibitions gone.

A small laugh and he hides his face in the crook of her neck, his thrusts growing erratic as she runs her fingers down his back. "Cloud-" she starts, voice shaky, that first wave hitting her. "I'm close, I'm so close."

Left hand on the small of her back while his right one snakes up and stops at the base of her neck. He doesn't think about anything else but her, he pounds into her good and hard and fast and he's close too, he wants her to scream again, scream so loud that the people at this Inn can't even look at them, he wants her to let the entire universe know she's with him, and it's selfish, he's aware, it's selfish but he thinks he can have this, right, he can be a little selfish here, and she's selfish too with the way she begs and drives him out of his mind, tells him he's so good knowing that she's got him wrapped around her finger.

He's hers forever, no matter what, he's hers forever.

He feels her nails digging in his skin, she's tightening around him, moaning his name, and then she's crying out, trembling, completely safe in his arms. She's still in a daze when she asks him to come too, when she gets him going in that sweet voice, the one that sends him over the edge-she whispers in his ear how much she wants it, and he doesn't last much longer after that, just enough to catch a glimpse of her before closing his eyes, groaning and hissing, coming inside her.

It's quiet afterwards. He stays inside her for a few moments and then thre's tired, lazy kisses and smiles, she's a giddy mess and he can't seem to catch his breath. The incense has stopped burning but the scent of chamomile and lemongrass remain strong, reminding them that there's a world outside. He backs away, slips out of her and she lowers her legs to stand on her feet. She notices, though, that he doesn't let go of her.

"We need to get some sleep," she says, but there's a smirk on her face.

"We really do."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

"Cloud."

"Yes?"

And she laughs, she laughs because he can be this silly with her, because things are okay. The battle they won a year ago almost took him away from her and it's still horrible to think about that, it still leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. She can hear that gunshot loud and clear, can see him falling to his knees whenever she closes her eyes, can feel her own heart stop beating all over again.

This time, however, they won and everyone is alive and breathing and that's all that matters, that's how it's going to be from now on. Maybe it's arrogant and stupid to think like that, to be so sure of things when there's so much that can go wrong, but they need this, they need this new way of looking at the future.

Giving him a quick peck on the lips, she moves past him, goes straight to the bed and then lets herself fall on her back on the mattress, her arms stretched above her head, the warmth from before leaving her as the cold air prickles her skin. Sure enough he follows suit, gets on the bed right next to her. She shifts to her side so he can pull her to him, her head on his chest.

"We won," she tells him, letting her thoughts come to life.

"We did."

"And we made it to the bed, after all."

She's curled up to him and he can't help but chuckle at her comment.

"It's a good bed," he says. "Ours is better, though."

"Way better," she smiles.

Cloud kisses the top of her head, holds her tighter, and falls asleep with her in the small, cramped, herbal scented room.


End file.
